


You're All I Want

by LadyStrallan



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: 1900s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, F/M, Flawed characters, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStrallan/pseuds/LadyStrallan
Summary: A fic in which I exaggerate both Monty and Sibella’s negative qualities.After I’ve Decided to Marry You, Monty tells Sibella about Phoebe's proposal and she decides that the only way to fix their situation is to kill Phoebe and Lionel.Very reminiscent of that one scene in Lolita (1998)Chapter one is from Sibella's perspective, and chapter two is from Monty's.
Relationships: Phoebe D'Ysquith/Monty Navarro, Sibella Hallward/Lionel Holland, Sibella Hallward/Monty Navarro
Kudos: 1





	1. Sibella

Sibella heard the door close as Phoebe D’Ysquith left Monty’s bachelor apartment. She poked her head out of the bedroom, and once she was certain that the woman was gone, she entered the parlour where Monty stood facing the door.

“What was her business?” she asked. She was slightly bitter at Phoebe interrupting her time with Monty. She didn’t see him nearly as much as she wanted to, thanks to her brute of a husband. Sibella doubted that whatever the woman had wanted with Monty was worthy of precedence over her time with him.

Monty walked over to a small table where the bottle of sherry sat, pouring himself a glass. “Something about selling her brother’s house. He died recently, you know.”

There was something suspicious about his tone, and once Sibella caught his gaze she was certain. “Don’t lie to me.”

Monty took a deep breath, reclining back into his armchair. “If you _must_ know, Miss D’Ysquith proposed that the two of us marry.”

Sibella couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open. It was quite honestly terrifying to her, the thought of Monty with another woman. He belonged to her. He would always belong to her. “And what did you tell her?” Her hands were curling into fists at her sides.

He took a sip of sherry. “I accepted.” Before she had a chance to chastise him, he added, “I’m next in line to become Earl, Sibella, I don’t know what else you expected me to do.”

She couldn’t believe the nerve of the man in front of her. Did he think that just because he had ascended in social status that he was allowed to treat her this way? It was a completely different dynamic than she was used to, and she wasn’t sure if she liked Monty having higher status than her.

“ _Refuse her_ ,” she argued. “What is to happen to _me_ after you marry her?”

With him married, she would officially become his mistress. It wasn’t a role she thought she would ever take on, and she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to either. Something about being the ‘other woman’ irked her.

“Sibella…” He placed the glass on the side table.

She paid no mind to him as she continued her rant. “Deceiving Lionel is one thing.” She hadn’t even really considered the social consequences if this affair was to be found out. She’d been fooling herself for far too long. “It will be a great deal worse if we’re both married.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sibella let out a huff. Briefly, she wondered if this was some form of revenge on Monty’s part, for her marrying Lionel. Didn’t he know she regretted it every day?

“If it means so much to you,” he said, “I’ll call it off. Tell her I changed my mind.”

“And how would that look?” She might as well have rolled her eyes. Sibella wrung her hands and slowly paced the floor in front of Monty’s armchair, trying to think of some sort of way to fix the mess he had gotten them both into. Suddenly, an idea sprung into her head. A terrible, morbid idea. An idea that might just work. She stopped pacing. “You need to kill her,” she muttered. “For me, Monty.”

Monty’s eyes widened as he registered what she was suggesting. She could sense that he had formed some sort of attachment to the woman. “What? How could I... Sibella-“

Sibella bit her lip, playing coy. She began to remove her fingerless lace gloves slowly, placing them on a small side table beside the armchair. “Or I could. And you could kill Lionel.” Monty’s grasp on the arms of the chair tensed.

She wasn’t sure how she would do it, if it became necessary for her to kill Phoebe. There were so many ways in which one could murder someone, and Monty had been particularly creative with the first six D’Ysquiths. She imagined several scenarios playing out in her head.

First, poison. It would be discreet. Depending on what kind of poison Sibella used, Phoebe might become suddenly ill, and die within a week or so. Monty would certainly garner sympathy from the public, which would make him look less suspicious. _Poor Monty Navarro, losing his fiancée in addition to most of his family_. Although, this method would not give Sibella any satisfaction for the anger and burning jealousy she felt towards Phoebe.

Then, strangulation. She imagined her hands wrapped around Phoebe’s throat, tightening her grip until the woman’s face turned as blue as the frumpy dress she was wearing when she had been at his apartment. Similarly, if she smothered her she’d hear Phoebe’s screams and cries for help slowly dissipate, watch her body fall limp as she was taken from this world.

The last scenario she imagined was stabbing. There would be blood. More blood than Sibella had ever seen in her life. She imagined Phoebe’s expression as the knife pierced her skin, Sibella thrusting it inches deep into her chest.

She decided that if it came down to it, poison was the most logical option. If they were to do this properly, everything needed to look as though foul play was out of the question. Although, Sibella was doubtful that Monty would even have her carry out one of the murders herself. If they were found out, she knew he’d want all of the blame to be on him.

“And then it’ll be just you and me. _Forever._ ” She knelt in front of the armchair he sat in, her finger tracing shapes on his inner thigh. “Just like how we imagined it as kids.” If she could just get Monty to do this for her, she would have her escape. Out of the clutches of her horrible husband, and into Monty’s embrace.

Her touch travelled higher and higher, and Monty’s eyes fluttered shut. “Wouldn’t you like that, Montague?” She was now shamelessly groping his prominent bulge; he was completely under her spell.

“Yes,” he breathed, at this point he would have done anything she said. “Oh God, Sibella.”

Sibella grinned. She was so close. Close to being married to the only person she ever truly loved, close to being the lady of a great house. It was everything she had ever dreamed of, and it was almost attainable, nearly in her grasp. All Monty needed was a bit of reassurance. “She’s the last one, Monty, just like the others.” Something changed in Monty’s expression. He didn’t know that she knew, Sibella guessed.

Sibella had always been one to see Monty’s dark side; she queried that she was the only person that could see it. He was so unassuming, so charming. The last one you’d expect to commit such terrible crimes. But there was a certain telling look in his eyes when he concealed his contempt. When she had told Monty about Lionel, that look intensified past contempt to pure murderous rage. Only after the third D’Ysquith death did Sibella start to suspect he was somehow involved. If he knew that she knew the truth, he would surely self-deprecate himself, call himself a monster, a villain. Truly, she found the murders quite romantic, considering he did it all for her. Since they were children Sibella knew he would die for her, and now she was certain he would kill for her too.

“And Lionel...” She continued to tease him, though his jaw clenched at her husband’s name. “I know you’ve wanted him dead since he picked me up in his motorcar that one afternoon.”

Killing Lionel wouldn’t only be out of necessity. It would also be revenge for how terribly he treated her. She would finally be able to fix the mistake she made in marrying him and marry Monty instead. She had dreamed of marrying Monty since she was a young girl. Although Sibella had had many admirers in her youth, she only ever let Monty touch her. He was the only one she trusted to kiss her behind the school, touch her breasts in an empty room during one of her parents’ parties, take her virginity that night they were left alone at his mother’s dingy Clapham apartment. Monty was her first everything, and she wanted him to be the only person to ever touch her again.

Suddenly, Monty was looking straight at her. He caught her wrist and sharply pulled her up from the floor and into his lap. He looked slightly unhinged; his pupils blown. He hadn’t expressly said anything, but Sibella took this as her answer that he would do what she had asked.

“I want you, Monty,” she whispered, beginning to unbutton his shirt yet again. She wasn’t just using her powers of seduction to manipulate him anymore. She felt the desire for him building within herself; yearning for his hands and his lips and his tongue. “I need you.”

He looked back at her with pure, unadulterated lust. “I love you.”

Their lips met in a rough, passionate kiss; Monty’s hands grasping Sibella’s face, and hers in his hair and on the back of his neck. Then, he was popping open the buttons at the front of her bodice. The instant all of the buttons were undone she pulled the garment off of her shoulders and discarded it onto the floor beside the chair.

Monty slipped one of his arms underneath Sibella, and rose from the armchair, carrying her into the bedroom and tossing her onto the bed. She bit her lip as she watched him practically tear his shirt off, before he climbed on top of her. Perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have to return home to Lionel. Monty covered her décolletage with kisses, Sibella’s hand on the back of his neck bringing him closer. He pressed a kiss to her neck before his lips were close to her ear.

“It was all for you.”


	2. Monty

Monty closed the door behind Phoebe after she finally left his apartment. He furrowed his brow as he tried to process all that had happened in the last five or so minutes. He was in the midst of a rather delicate situation; he was juggling two women while simultaneously avoiding being exposed as the perpetrator of six murders. On the other hand, he was next in line to become Earl of Highhurst, so close to achieving his ultimate goal.

“What was her business?” He heard Sibella’s voice from behind. She had startled him slightly.

He decided that the best option would be to lie to her; he didn’t want to ruin their time together by telling her about the engagement. He moved to pour himself some sherry, hoping that it would calm his mind. “Something about selling her brother’s house. He died recently, you know.”

He looked back at Sibella, trying to judge if she had believed him. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me.” Apparently, she had not.

Monty sighed as he sat down in his armchair. Sibella could be quite difficult sometimes. He had hoped that they wouldn’t have had this conversation, but now he had to appease her. “If you _must_ know,” he said, “Miss D’Ysquith proposed that the two of us marry.” He had no intention of telling Sibella about his growing affections towards Phoebe, or the time they had spent together at Henry’s estate.

Sibella’s eyes twitched and her hands clenched at her sides “And what did you tell her?”

He took a sip of sherry, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. “I accepted.”

He was growing slightly annoyed with her over this. She of all people would be well aware of the expectation of a soon to be earl to marry. Had she forgotten about her own marriage to Lionel? Monty knew that Sibella was quite possessive of him, and he had to admit that he was also rather possessive of her. When she had first introduced him to the idea of Lionel, another man in competition with Monty for Sibella’s affections, he wanted to kill the man instantly. He knew how stupid she was being when she accepted his marriage proposal, but Sibella was stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to a word he said. Now she was being selfish, expecting him to stay a bachelor for the rest of his days, meeting with her for secret trysts whenever she so desired.

“I’m next in line to become earl, Sibella, I don’t know what else you expected me to do.”

“ _Refuse her_ ,” she hissed, her tone was full of venom. “What is to happen to _me_ after you marry her?”

Monty hadn’t had much time to think of sufficient answers to her questions. In all honesty, his acceptance of Phoebe’s proposal was quite impulsive. The whole thing had happened so fast. He had to admit, though, that throughout Phoebe’s visit his mind continually wandered back to Sibella in the bedroom, and the way he had kissed her before Phoebe arrived. He had no intention of ever giving her up. She was his first love, his Sibella, and he planned on worshipping her for the rest of his days. “Sibella…” He placed his glass on the side table.

“Deceiving Lionel is one thing.” _Lionel_. He was always creating issues, wasn’t he. “It will be a great deal worse if we’re both married.” Sibella was growing exasperated, and Monty needed to resolve things if he was to enjoy the rest of her visit.

“If it means so much to you,” he offered, “I’ll call it off. Tell her I changed my mind.” He was growing an attachment to Phoebe, that much was true. But it was nothing like his utter devotion to Sibella. When they were children she appeared to him as some sort of ethereal being. A girl so perfect that he could only ever dream of being with. It was still a wonder to him how and why she loved him back. She had been his only leverage against the all of the wealthier, more handsome, perhaps even wittier boys in town. He was poor, gangly, and slightly awkward, but Sibella wanted him and only him.

She looked at him as though what he said was completely idiotic. “And how would that look?” She began pacing the floor before him, wringing her hands and biting her lip anxiously. He was about to stand to go comfort her when she stopped, turning to look at him with wide eyes. “You need to kill her,” she said. “For me, Monty.”

He could have gasped in shock. It was difficult for him to even process what she had suggested. “What? How could I... Sibella-“ He stumbled over his words in complete disbelief.

“Or I could. And you could kill Lionel,” She was removing her gloves, almost methodically, and he watched her movements carefully. He wished she would stop mentioning Lionel. “And then it’ll be just you and me. Forever.” Slowly, she sunk down to the floor, and knelt in front of him, beginning to trace shapes and lines up his inner thigh. He swallowed hard. “Just like how we imagined it as kids.”

She was completely correct. It _was_ something they had always talked about from age seven to seventeen. During midsummer picnics, her parents’ parties, snowy family getaways. She’d talk endlessly about the dress she would wear on their wedding day, the ring she hoped he would buy her, the house they would live in together, the names of their children. But then there came a time when Sibella seemed to realize the reality of their situation. And to Monty’s chagrin, she decided that she couldn’t bring herself to marry only for love.

Her finger had turned into her hand, travelling closer and closer to his erection until she was groping it. Monty shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed. He felt completely powerless under her touch. “Wouldn’t you like that, Montague?”

The use of his full name shook Monty to his core. Sibella hardly ever called him by his full Christian name, she hadn’t in fact for quite a long time. She only ever used it to tease him. Sibella knew that Monty’s dear mother called her son ‘Montague’ exclusively, and if Sibella called him that, well, then the tops of his ears would turn red. This connection to his mother wasn’t the thing that unsettled him. It was that Phoebe called him ‘Montague’ just as often as she called him ‘Monty’. It was like something out of a horrible nightmare, it was Sibella’s voice, it was her speaking, but in it he heard Phoebe. The thought of killing her left a pit in his stomach.

“Yes,” he gasped out as Sibella continued to torture him with her touch. It was a pleasurable sort of torture, but excruciating nonetheless. “Oh God, Sibella.” Monty tossed his head back and he dug his nails into the chair’s armrests.

“She’s the last one, Monty, just like the others.”

Monty froze. Sibella knew. She knew about everything he had done. How had she figured out the truth?

He wasn’t entirely sure what Sibella meant by ‘the last one’. Phoebe certainly wasn’t the last D’Ysquith; there was Lady Eugenia, and likely many other distant or illegitimate relatives. He hoped ‘last one’ meant the last D’Ysquith he’d murder, or the last person, depending on when Lionel was killed. This whole murderous spree was for Sibella was it not? And once he had her as his lawfully wedded wife, they could put this whole ordeal behind them and live happily ever after.

It was strange, Monty had always imagined Sibella would be shocked and horrified if she found out what he had done, even if she knew he had done it all for her. Perhaps that part would repulse her even more. But now, she seemed to know the truth, and yet her nimble fingers still trailed up his thigh.

Her eyes glittered as she stared up at him. Whether it was bloodlust or just plain lust, Monty didn’t care. “And Lionel…” Monty felt his jaw tighten at the sound of the man’s name. “I know you’ve wanted him dead since he picked me up in his motorcar that one afternoon.” He could tell that there was something more to their marriage than Sibella was letting on. He’d notice bruises mysteriously appearing on her skin. Her offhand comments about Lionel complaining if she gained any weight. After all, if Sibella was truly happy in her marriage, why was she here at Monty’s apartment, asking him to kill her husband? Lionel didn’t deserve her. No one did. Not even Monty himself. Although he was the only one who came close. He was the only person in the world who knew how to love her.

He knew that she’d overthink it later, after the deed had been done. What was the appropriate time for them each to mourn? How would it look for them to be seen together after both their spouses mysteriously passed away? People would talk. They always did. But up until this point, Monty had skated by on just a slight lack of suspicion. He only hoped that the truth wouldn’t be exposed, causing the ice to break and both he and Sibella to drown.

He looked into her eyes, certain of all the passion, desire, and love in her piercing gaze. Her hand was still placed on the inside of his thigh, so he seized her wrist, pulling her up from the floor and into his lap. In his head he vowed to her that he would do what she asked. He would do what he had to do for the two of them to live the life that they had dreamed of as kids.

“I want you, Monty,” she whispered to him, hands beginning to unbutton his shirt. Her voice trembling with want. “I need you.”

It was all the assurance he needed, to hear her say those words. He placed a hand on her cheek affectionately. “I love you.”

Something within him snapped in that moment, and he pulled her face towards him, kissing her deeply. He felt one of her hands tangle in his hair, the other on the back of his neck. Not able to contain his desire for her any longer, he made work on the buttons of her bodice, watching Sibella hastily remove the garment when they were all undone.

He slipped one of his arms underneath her so he could carry her from the parlour into the bedroom, tossing her onto the bed. He quickly undid the rest of the buttons on his own shirt and let it be discarded on the floor. Climbing on top of her, he kissed every inch of exposed skin above her corset.

Everything he had done until this point was finally going to pay off. All he had ever wanted would soon be his; Sibella, the earldom. All of the murders that he had committed and the ones he would soon carry out were entirely worth it. And his motive, he wanted to make sure she knew.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, just below her jaw, before whispering into her ear, “It was all for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this fic! Hope you enjoyed reading it <3 Btw I'm working on a new collaboration with ComingandGoingByBubble! The first chapter is coming out soon, so stay tuned!
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


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